Change.

Change is the one thing that is a constant in our lives, and yet it seems to be that which we most struggle with. Why is it that seasons seamless flow into one another, days effortlessly become shorter or longer, and yet humans grasp onto sameness with rigid, tight grips? What is the secret to change?

There is a story about Alexander the Great on this very subject. Alexander heard of a Great Jewish Sage in the Negev. He asked to be taken to this great sage and, upon greeting him, asked of him: What must a man do to truly live? The sage answered: To truly live, one must die.

What can be made of this apparent contradiction?

Change requires that we let go of something. In order for something new to come in, something old has to go in order to make room for it. To put something new on my plate I must first clean off what is on it. In order to become a tree the seed must give up its idea of “seed”. In order to become a new self, I must give up the image I have of who I am right now.

I’ve never experienced this more fully firsthand as I have recently. In August I moved from Los Angeles, California (+16 million) to a tiny village in rural France (1,400 people). In Los Angeles I was efficient, “plugged-in”, owned a house, had a graduate degree, fit into an image. In my village in France I knew no one, owned nothing, had few means to get anything done, and my degree was meaningless. Who was I? Was I just an image, a shorthand that people recognized, that I traded in? Or behind that illusory façade was there an essential “Me”, something real that exists beyond borders, beyond fixity?

The answer is, of course, the essential Me. We all have it. But how sneaky are the images with which we cloak ourselves when we settle into a culture and community. The question is how to disrobe and stand naked, so to speak – Real, Core, Essential. Moving to another country is one way; dreaming is another.

Each dream is akin to moving to a new country. Each dream places us in a new scenario, with new challenges, with new perspectives outside of the projected-on perspective of the outer world. In a dream, every aspect of the dream is an aspect of the dreamer – if I can acknowledge that I am at the same time ‘myself’ in a dream, as well as the skateboarder that whizzes by and says something, the teacher ringing the bell, even the broken down house or the monster that appears, then I can learn the first step in navigating change. I can learn to die. Meaning, to let an old definition of the self slough off so that a new, truer version can arise.

If I find myself complaining about an aspect in my life my first question is to ask: What am I holding onto tightly? What aspect am I refusing to let go so that something new can come in? Because complaint is by nature chronic. If I am chronically dissatisfied, chances are I am throttling change by relentlessly holding onto status quo: I want to work fewer hours so I have a life AND I really want to keep my big house, housekeeper, pool. I want to move to a new neighborhood where I have more space AND I really want to keep my favorite bagel shop, hiking trails, dry cleaners. I want a job that offers me the chance to be more creative AND I really want the paid vacation I’ve been promised after 2 more years.

If we practice stepping into different perspectives of the self through our dreaming can we develop our ability to step into new perspectives in our waking life?
I think so. In fact, I base my practice on it. Dreaming is a playground of growing our ability to imagine ourselves in new worlds, new lives, new expressions of our being-ness. It is where we practice taking risks, and learn the tools to surmount the challenges impeding our transformation in our waking lives. Dreams are not passive. They are not grist for cocktail conversation, something to be chuckled at and dismissed at the office. They are real opportunities for discovery – fodder to be actively engaged with, worked on, stepped in and out of so that we can take off our many layers to continue to reveal the shiny new truth of who we are in a life that offers renewal to our stagnancy.

Don’t worry – holding onto change is only human. But in our ‘only humanness’ is also the ability to loosen that tight grip, to move beyond being stuck and to instead experience radical transformation. In the years that I have been teaching dreaming I have seen many such radical transformations.

Spring is a time of obvious metamorphosis – we see in blossoms, sprouts, growth all that nature has been working on as change bursts into view. In this spirit I have many upcoming classes and workshops this spring – visit the calendar here. Please email if you have any questions, thoughts, or simply would like to sign up.

Happy dreaming!